Chapter 32: The Genius Who Bled in the Dark
The sky above Eden had long since darkened, clouds swirling like bruises over a city that glittered with false sanctity. From a distance, the floating metropolis looked divine... spires bathed in gold light, prayers projected as holograms drifting through the air. But up close, you could hear the cracks. The whirring of broken drones. The hiss of leaking pipes. The silence of faith stretching thin.
Inside the Tower of Seven, the remnants of the Council's final words still echoed like ghosts through marble halls. A chorus of polished voices declaring victory over the Akuma, declaring Luther's sacrifice as the dawn of peace.
But beneath it all... beneath the cheering of the citizens, beneath the applause of manipulated minds... Paku Shinomiya descended into the belly of the world he helped build. For the first time, he did not descend as a mad genius.
He descended as a man.
Each step down the metallic spiral hurt.
His left hand pressed to his side, warm blood seeping between his fingers and trailing in thin arcs down the rail. A faint static buzzed at the edge of his vision. His white coat, usually immaculate, was torn at the shoulder, burnt at the sleeve. The faint scent of ozone clung to him like guilt.
He caught sight of himself in the mirrored elevator wall... white hair messy, sunglasses perfect as ever, lips curved into something like a smile.
"I still look stunning as ever don't I?" He said to his reflection.
But his own reflection didn't buy it.
The elevator door hissed open, spilling sterile light into the shaft. His sanctuary waited for him. Only tonight, it felt more like a tomb.
He stepped forward and faltered, collapsing to one knee with a wet slap. The metal floor was cold and slick with his own blood. His breath came shallow.
The fatigue of genius. Of deception. Of fatherhood. And of failure.
"Ironic," he muttered aloud, voice hoarse. "I invent miracles for everyone else, but I can't even walk down a damn hallway."
The smell of sterilized metal and divine ether hit him like a memory. It always did. He hated it. It reminded him too much of the Church. Of the day Elian was baptized and the gods reached down to take him away.
Dragging himself forward, leaving a thin trail of red behind, Mr. P reached the base of a glowing obelisk... a pillar of divine runes and silver roots, encasing a shard of something brighter than the sun.
Elian's Essence.
It shimmered inside the cryogenic casing, as if mocking him.
"So this is what being at peace is," he whispered, laying a trembling hand against the glass. "Pretty."
He slammed his other hand onto the console. Holographic screens blinked to life, washing his face in blue. Diagnostics scrolled upward... 99% neural degradation in the left hemisphere. 41% percent drop in cellular regeneration. Missing soul fractal.
His lip curled. "Figures."
When his knees began to buckle again, he growled through his teeth.
"No. Not yet."
He triggered Protocol LUCIFER-9.
The obelisk's runes ignited, flooding the room with silver light. A tendril of divine energy lashed out like a living vein and stabbed into his chest. His back arched as a scream tore out of him, but he held still as the warmth spread. Healing and agony in equal measure.
When it was over, he slumped back, wheezing. His hands still shook.
"And people say religion is bad for you," he muttered with a half-smile.
Across the lab, another panel rose from the floor... the stasis pod. Its glass glowed faint gold. Inside, Luther's damaged core floated like a dying star.
Mr. P limped toward it.
"You're still in there, aren't you boy?" he said softly, fishing a biometric key from under his fingernail and sliding it into the pod's lock. It hissed open.
He cradled the core for a moment, watching the faint pulses of light.
"Sleep tight, prototype," he murmured. "When you wake up… i hope you don't remember what i did and forgive this poor kind soul of mine..."
He sealed the pod and activated the cloaking protocols, then shipped the pod down Eden's domain. So deep that God himself won't see where it was lies. With layers of encryption blooming on the screens. Not even Zero's foresight would pierce it.
Turning back to the console, he pulled up a satellite feed. Onscreen: Clone 3...
He tapped the command. "Dispatch recovery units. To Black Dawn. "
A faint rustle of cloth stopped him mid-step.
He didn't even look up.
"Watching in silence is a family trait, huh?"
Rei Kagami stepped out of the shadows behind him, hands in his pockets. His gaze lingered on the floor, then lifted to Mr. P.
"You're as always injured," Rei said, voice flat. "Bleeding internally... right."
Mr. P grinned faintly. "We all are, in some way."
Rei's eyes narrowed at the command terminal.
" How's the package i got looking?"
"Ahh yes... pretty much tired. I recon maybe its the hole on his chest drained the life out of him"
"Mr.P what's the next step after deceiving father."
"I would like to say probably closing my eyes and hope not to die young."
Rei's jaw tightened.
"Good grief , you suck a sick head aren't you."
"I mean I try on a regular basis." Mr.P answered.
Rei then turned to the screen, narrowed his eyes on the monitor.
Clone 3.
"I wonder Mr.P..." Rei said.
"Why did you put a soul in Clone 2, your second clone." he asked quietly, "Where is your first Clone actually. Clone 1?"
For once, Mr. P didn't answer immediately. He just kept smiling, though his grip on the console whitened his knuckles.
"What a question... it seems you do take after your."
"Wouldn't anyone be curious, after what you just did." Rei said...
"After examining the dead Mr.P bodies... and found out it their were clone 2, 4 and 5. Makes even a idiot ask where is your first Clone, as we both know whose the leader of choir of sins."
"Hmm... " Mr.P said silently
Looked at he console and then took a cigarette out in his pocket.
Placed it on his mouth and flicked fire infront his face. Smoke penetrating the slience in the room.
"Ahhhhh hmm," said Mr.P while letting smoke out. "Where is clone 1 you ask... possibly outside the chess board or in. Watching me play the piano as long as i can."
"So you don't know?" Rei pressed.
"In every story," Mr. P replied, straightening, "there's a character who disappears before the plot begins. Forgotten. Background noise. But they never really leave. They simply wait… for the right silence."
"That's not an answer."
"It's all I can afford to give you."
He dropped into his chair with a groan, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.
"Do you regret making Luther?" Rei asked after a long pause.
Mr. P's smile faded. He stared at the stasis pod across the room.
"I don't regret making him," he said softly. "I regret making him believe he had a choice."
Rei stood there for a moment longer, then melted back into the shadows without another word.
Alone again, Mr. P pulled a cracked photograph from his coat pocket.
Elian, laughing in a sunlit garden.
"I'm not doing this for the world," he whispered to the picture. "I'm doing this to see you laugh again boy."
He set the photo aside and opened a final command window.
Clone 3 recovery unit: In progress. Estimated time to arrive destination: 9 hours
On the console screen, lines of players and moves lit up, a digital chessboard.
Mr. P's fingers danced over the pieces.
"The game is reset," he murmured.
His crooked smile returned, sharp as glass.
"Let's begin again."